


After Hours

by pikablob



Category: Hilda (Cartoon)
Genre: (this was supposed to be a oneshot), F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Johanna loves Hilda but she made mistakes, Nightmares, Post-Episode: s02e08 The Fifty Year Night, Reconciliation, Tontu (briefly)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikablob/pseuds/pikablob
Summary: Feeling unable to talk to her mum about a nightmare, Hilda goes to Kaisa instead.
Relationships: Hilda & Johanna | Hilda's Mum, Hilda & The Librarian (Hilda), Johanna | Hilda's Mum & The Librarian (Hilda), Johanna | Hilda's Mum/The Librarian (Hilda)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 149





	1. Closing Shift

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended Songs: [Wildflowers (Hilda & Johanna Theme)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdgY-CQsbKU), [Dirty Paws (Hilda's Theme)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCHUw7ACS8o)

It was well past closing time for the Trolberg Library. Outside, the moon was already high in the sky, the roads cast yellow in the glow of the streetlights. Inside, the library was almost empty, the patrons having long cleared out and headed home.

Kaisa liked it that way; it was much easier to reshelve books and check inventory when she wasn’t dealing with patrons. She made her way quietly through the darkened isles, setting returned and misplaced books back into their places, whistling to herself as she went. It was an easy task, and she found her mind wandering as she went about her duties.

Her thoughts drifted back to her recent adventures, a fond smile settling on her face at the memories. Between reconciling with her mentor and purging the Jorts building of Tide Mice, she had to admit she had developed a soft spot for the three kids who seemed to cause most of Trolberg’s chaos. And, if she was truly honest with herself, she definitely had a favourite.

David was nice enough, if harmless, and Frida was the model of a witch-in-training. But part of Kaisa couldn’t help feeling like Hilda was somehow her kid. She couldn’t help feeling a little wayward pride every time the Committee of Three complained about a new incident caused by the blue-haired girl, and she found herself looking forward to the next time Hilda would pay her a visit. Something exciting was sure to follow.

She kept thinking as she put the last of the books on her cart away. They mostly weren’t the kind of thing she would read; ‘ _The Basics of Hyperspatial Spirit Dynamics_ ’, with too many co-authors to name; ‘ _The Truth Of Infinity_ ’, by someone named ‘Martha Laurent’; and finally ‘ _The Memoirs of Arthur Brownstone_ ’, which, Kaisa noted, she should probably recommend to Hilda.

She was pushing the last book back into place on the shelf when something interrupted her, snapping her attention away. For a brief moment the entire library was lit up, pink light cutting through the darkness from somewhere behind her. A strange jingling sound came with it, echoing though the isles.

She spun just in time to see two diminutive figures leap out from one of her shelves, hand in hand, sending reference guides tumbling to the floor. They both stopped dead the moment their feet hit the ground, halfway in the shadow of the shelf they had just destroyed.

Both were about the height of human children. In the darkness Kaisa could only make out the features of the nearer one, with a bulbous nose jutting out from a head swaddled in thick brown hair; a nisse, she realised with a start.

“Uhh, hi?” the creature said gingerly. Before she could even think to respond it let go of its companion, making a sudden break for the shelves. “She’s your problem now! Bye!” It vanished in another burst of purple light, leaving the other figure still standing there.

Kaisa turned her gaze over to them, and immediately felt her blood run cold. Because what was standing in front of her wasn’t another nisse; it was unmistakeably a human child, one Kaisa knew well.

The girl’s familiar blue hair was pulled back into a ponytail, running down behind her head. She wore only plain white pajamas, with no coat to speak of and her feet bare. She was shivering, her breaths shaky and erratic, arms wrapped around herself, and in the dim light Kaisa could see tears running down Hilda’s face. She felt her heart break at the sight of her favourite child so distraught.

“Hildi?” She stepped forwards, concern rising, Hilda’s strange arrival already half-forgotten. Hilda shrunk back a little in response, looking up slowly to meet her gaze. “What’s going on?”

“It’s, I…” Hilda stumbled over her own words. Her mouth opened and closed without sound, whatever she wanted to say unwilling to come out, and Kaisa’s concern only grew as the seconds ticked on.

Finally the girl looked down, sniffling loudly and screwing her eyes shut. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly, “I shouldn’t have come here, I just…” Her gaze rose slowly to the shelf her nisse companion had vanished into, as if she wanted to will him back. “I’ll go, but I-”

“It’s alright.” Kaisa finally closed the gap between them, kneeling down to get a better look. It stung badly somewhere deep inside, seeing her child hurt like this. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the worry out of her voice, and spoke softly. “What’s the matter?” Hilda sniffed loudly, looking down again.

“It’s dumb, really,” she said quietly. “I just h-had a bad dream. I got scared, b-but Mum’s been really busy and she needs her sleep and I didn’t want to wake her…”

“So you persuaded your nisse friend to bring you here?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded, trying and failing to hold back another sniffle. Kaisa paused; under any other circumstances her being Hilda’s second choice for emotional support would’ve flattered her, but right now she felt too far out of her depth. She couldn’t help doubting Hilda’s words; there had to be some deeper reason why she hadn’t just woken her mother, right?

“Oh, Hildi.” Kaisa couldn’t stop her concern spilling out. She reached out, gently pulling Hilda into an embrace against the front of her uniform. She brought her cloak in over the top, enveloping the girl in the comforting warmth. Slowly, uncertainly, she felt small arms reach up to return the hug.

“It’s alright,” she soothed again, scrambling to think of what else she could do. One idea shot to the front of her mind, something Tildy had taught her years ago. “Try and breathe with me; it will help you feel calm.”

She took a long breath in, and then let it out slowly. In her arms she felt Hilda shift, her small body heaving as she mimicked the motion. Kaisa repeated the motion, feeling her own panicked heartbeat slow and Hilda’s jitters subside. She continued slowly, listening and feeling to Hilda grow calm, until finally the girl let out a quiet sigh of relief from under her cloak.

“Thank you,” Hilda broke the silence, her voice still strained by the lump in her throat.

“It’s nothing,” Kaisa replied, fondness creeping into her voice. “Do you want to come out now?” There was a moment of silence, before Hilda finally answered.

“Actually, can I stay under here?” she asked cautiously, as if afraid of what the librarian might say. “It’s comforting, when there’s too much outside.” She still sounded hurt, and Kaisa wasn’t about to deprive her of a source of safety, even if she didn’t quite understand.

“Alright then,” she acquiesced, giving Hilda a gentle squeeze before dropping her arms to a loose embrace. Just what had scared her enough to tear her up like that? “Do you want to talk about your dream? That might help you feel less afraid.” She felt Hilda swallow, shifting uncomfortably.

“It was about the time worm,” the girl began, voice muffled a little by the cloak. The gears in Kaisa’s head started turning; Tildy had told her some details about this incident, but she had no idea it had affected Hilda like this. “It wanted to eat me, like it did to the other versions of me. It just kept coming after me, no matter what I did; I couldn’t escape it.”

She sniffled again, and Kaisa quickly tightened the embrace. Suddenly the cloak made a lot more sense; it was like hiding under the covers, unable to see all the dark corners the worm could emerge from.

“You’re safe, Hildi,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Tildy told me you got rid of the worm. It won’t hurt you.”

“I know,” Hilda replied, voice barely above a whisper. “I just keep thinking, what if it comes back? What if it’s like the Tide Mice, and we didn’t fix things properly?”

“Then we’ll fix it together.” Kaisa had no idea how to do that; she had no real idea how time worms manifested, or how to stop them. But she just knew, deep down, that she would hold one off at all costs if it meant protecting Hilda, no matter how little magic she could do.

For a moment, Hilda didn’t say anything. Kaisa could hear her taking more deep breaths, bringing herself down off the spike of panic. But as she listened, a question rose again in the librarian’s mind; why her? What could really have made Hilda not tell her mother about something like this? She waited until she was sure Hilda was calm again, then voiced her concerns.

“Hildi, can I ask you something?” There was a quiet murmur of assent from under the cloak. “Your mother really wouldn’t mind being woken up, would she? Why would you not tell her?” Hilda went quiet again, and for a moment Kaisa was worried she had crossed some unseen line.

“Because I know what she’ll say,” Hilda said finally. A different kind of hurt rose in her voice, less fearful and more sad, almost bitter.

“And what is that?” Kaisa couldn’t help asking, feeling her concern spike again.

“She’ll use it as an excuse,” Hilda explained sadly. “She’ll say I shouldn’t be going on adventures if they’re giving me nightmares. She just wants me to stay home all the time.” She sighed, before adding, “and, I can’t tell her about the time worm. I was supposed to be grounded when that whole thing happened.”

There was clearly a warren of issues there, some deeper-seated conflict that Kaisa didn’t know enough about to really consider. But the fact that, justified or not, Hilda didn’t feel like she could talk to her mother, that she would choose her instead, made the librarian’s heart break all over again. Something inside her snapped, and in an instant she found words spilling up unbidden.

“Well, you can always talk to me,” she said softly. “If you don’t want to tell your mum, or don’t think she’ll understand, I’m always here.” Suddenly Hilda’s arms were tight around her, gripping on for dear life.

“Thanks,” was all she said, voice cracking with pain. Kaisa could feel her start to cry again under the cloak, sad tears spilling forth. It wasn’t like the blind terror of before; it was something deeper, something pent-up, and Kaisa knew the girl had to get it all out.

For a moment they stayed like that, Hilda letting the last of her hurt out, before finally Kaisa felt her grip loosen. The girl shifted back, and in a small voice she spoke up again. “I think I’m ready to come out now.”

Kaisa released her embrace. She let her arms fall to her sides, the cloak falling with them to reveal Hilda’s face. She was a wreck, her eyes red and face tear-stained, but there was a look of bare relief in her eyes. “Are you going to be alright now?”

“I’m okay,” Hilda said, but her tone quavered. It was clear she didn’t believe her own words. But, looking down at her, Kaisa felt an idea form somewhere in the back of her mind.

“How about I read you something?” she offered. “Reading books always helps take my mind off things.” She already knew exactly what the right book would be. Hilda looked like she wanted to say yes, starting to nod before stopping herself.

“I need to get home before mum wakes up,” she admitted, but Kaisa just smiled.

“I can do transportation spells,” she reassured, “I can send you right home when we’re done.” Hilda visibly relaxed, shoulders slumping and a small smile breaking through the worry on her face. She nodded.

“Then alright.”

Kaisa couldn’t help smiling at that, a warm, fond feeling filling her as she walked back over to where she had left her cart. She reached up to the shelf, pulling free the old copy of ‘ _The Memoirs of Arthur Brownstone_ ’, and waved it for Hilda to see.

“I think you’ll like this one, Hildi.”


	2. Overtime

“And that is how Arthur Brownstone and his daughter Marcy solved the riddle of the Sphinx,” Kaisa finished. She looked up, over the top of the worn book in her hands, to the old armchair where Hilda was sat. The blue-haired girl was smiling, all traces of the nightmare that had brought her to the library long gone, and Kaisa felt a swelling of warmth at the comfortable look on her face.

“Woah,” Hilda yawned; her eyes were still wide with interest, but over them her eyelids were starting to droop.

“Feeling better now?” Kaisa asked gently, closing _The Memoirs of Arthur Brownstone_ and standing up from her own chair. Hilda just nodded, letting out a quiet, comfortable murmur. The librarian couldn’t help smiling at that.

“Thanks,” the girl added, another yawn escaping her lips. She paused, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. As she watched Kaisa approach her smile seemed to shrink, something else rising in her eyes. “I mean it, for everything,” she said quietly, “It… helps, a lot, to have somebody else I can talk to.”

“Of course, Hildi,” Kaisa replied fondly, but inside she felt a twinge of concern. She couldn’t help thinking back to before, to the reason why Hilda was here in the first place; the girl didn’t feel like she could talk to her own mother. Kaisa knew all too well how that could feel.

But she kept those concerns to herself. Instead she reached down, ruffling Hilda’s blue hair affectionately. Hilda let out another yawn in response, content returning to her face. “I think it’s time for you to get some sleep.”

“What about you?” Hilda asked quietly.

“I’m a witch,” Kaisa half-joked, “I don’t need sleep.” The truth was she just liked to stay up late, but the responsible part of her was wary of admitting that. She knew she didn’t really get enough rest most nights; the last thing she wanted was Hilda emulating that. “So, are you ready to go home now?”

She saw apprehension flash across Hilda’s face for a brief moment, before the girl nodded. “Mhmm.” Slowly she went to stand up, moving as if her limbs felt heavy. Kaisa held up a hand to stop her.

“It’s alright,” she said softly, taking out her wand in one hand, “I can carry you.” Before Hilda had a chance to protest the librarian reached down, scooping her up into her arms. Hilda flushed a little in embarrassment, but was too tired to do anything else. She leaned into the touch, relaxing.

In the back of her mind, Kaisa started reciting the translocation spell. Casting the few complex spells she knew always made her nervous, and translocating based on someone else’s knowledge was right up at the top of that. “Alright; I need you to try and focus on your bedroom for me. Can you do that?”

Hilda murmured affirmatively, closing her eyes. Kaisa took a deep breath, feeling the magic around her beginning to build. She closed her own eyes, muttering out the incantation quickly. She felt her feet lift off the floor, Hilda shifting in her arms. The final words of the spell left her mouth, and there was a flash of white.

And then they weren’t in the library anymore. In its place was a small cozy bedroom, with shelves covered in books and trinkets and a low-sitting bed. It was unmistakeably Hilda’s, between the strange collection and the drawings of trolls pinned up over the desk. That, and the small white-furred deerfox curled up on the end of the bed.

It was dark, the blinds pulled shut over the large square window, but Kaisa could see well enough as her feet drifted down onto the carpet. Too many late nights and too much work by moonlight had made her well accustomed to it.

“Hildi,” she whispered softly, “We’re here.” The girl in her arms didn’t reply; looking down, the librarian could see her eyes had fallen shut and her chest was slowly rolling with quiet breaths. Translocating had taken the last of her energy.

Kaisa gently set her down on the bed and carefully pulled the covers over her, making sure not to disturb the animal sleeping at her feet. Hilda stirred a little at the touch, but didn’t come close to waking. She curled up under the covers, a content smile settling on her face.

A familiar fondness rose in Kaisa at the sight; she knew no more nightmares would bother the girl tonight. On impulse she bent down, gently pressing a kiss to the girl’s forehead. “Goodnight, Hildi.”

“Night, mum.”

It was little more than Hilda mumbling in her sleep, but it made Kaisa pause all the same. She was sure it had just been a mistake; Hilda was still fast asleep, unaware of who stood over her; but still she couldn’t help feeling a surge of warmth. The idea of the blue-haired girl as her daughter, as crazy and impossible as that seemed, made Kaisa smile all over again.

She stepped back slowly, satisfied. Hilda stirred slightly, but didn’t move; she was too deep in the warm and comforting embrace of a pleasant sleep. Kaisa started running the translocation incantation through her head again, ready for another jump.

A sound from behind her made her pause. It sounded like the creak of door hinges, punctuated by a sharp intake of breath. She turned on the spot, feeling the hairs on her neck stand on end and her stomach lurch with sudden fear. For a moment she hoped that she had been mistaken, that it had just been her imagination, but as the doorway came into view her hopes were dashed.

Standing in the doorway, silhouetted in moonlight, Kaisa recognised Hilda’s mother. The woman stared at her for a moment, wide-eyed, before she blinked and frowned, her surprise replaced by what looked almost like frustration. She opened her mouth to say something, but Kaisa cut her off.

“Shhh!” she hissed without thinking, pointing down at the sleeping child behind her. The last thing Hilda needed after such an exhausting night was to be woken up again. Her mother nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving Kaisa.

For a moment, the librarian considered translocating anyway; it wasn’t like the other woman could stop her. But as soon as she thought of it she smothered the idea. If she vanished, then Hilda would be solely on the hook for having a strange magical woman in the house. If she couldn’t explain, she might not even be allowed to see Hilda again. So she swallowed her fears and uncertainties and reluctantly met the other woman’s gaze.

“I can explain,” she whispered, stepping towards the door. Hilda’s mother nodded again, stepping back to let Kaisa into the hall. She peered through as the librarian passed, her gaze softening a little as it passed over Hilda, before gently shutting the door.

“Come with me?” The words came out more as a frustrated sigh. Kaisa could only nod, letting Hilda’s mother lead her along the hallway and down the house’s small staircase. They came out into a small and cozy living room; Hilda’s mother flipped the lights on, wincing for a moment at the brightness, and sat down on one of the chairs by the dining table.

Kaisa followed, perching awkwardly on the edge of the next chair. In the light she could finally get a proper look at the other woman. She was dressed in simple yellow pajamas, bags hanging beneath her eyes. But it was the suspicion in her gaze that made Kaisa squirm; she felt like she was about to amid her lack of magic to Tildy all over again, one arm reaching up involuntarily to rub the other.

“So,” Hilda’s mother broke the silence, “Why were you in my daughter’s room?” There was an edge of protectiveness to her voice, and Kaisa found she couldn’t bring herself to lie. She took a deep breath.

“I-I was putting Hildi-” she cut herself off, knowing the other woman probably wouldn’t understand or appreciate the nickname. “Hilda, to bed. I brought her home after she came to see me.”

“In the middle of the night?” The other woman raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Kaisa explained, forcing more words out. “We’ve known each other for a while; I work at the library, so I see your daughter a lot. We’re… friends, you could say.” Hilda’s mother sighed, the frustrated look settling back on her face again.

“So she snuck out to come and see you then?” she challenged, before looking down. “She’s still supposed to be grounded after the last incident,” she muttered.

Kaisa felt something familiar snap inside her, Hilda’s words repeating in her mind; about why she had come to the library that night, about how she couldn’t trust her own mother. And before she even had time to think words forced their way up her throat from somewhere inside.

“She didn’t come to cause trouble,” she quickly insisted, more force than she intended rising in her voice. “She came to talk to me, because she had a nightmare.”

That wiped the look off the other woman’s face. She sat bolt upright, blinking in surprise. Disbelief replaced the mistrust and frustration in her eyes, only to be replaced in turn by what Kaisa was sure was worry.

“Hilda had a nightmare?” the woman asked. Kaisa found herself cursing her own impulses; Hilda had trusted her with that information, and now here she was spilling it all to the last person the girl wanted to tell.

“Yes,” she said firmly, watching the other woman’s reactions closely. Her face fell as the realisation set in, and her gaze turned down.

“I don’t understand,” she said helplessly. “Hilda had a bad dream, and she didn’t come and tell me? Why wouldn’t she?” She sounded more worried than accusatory, head coming to rest in her hands. “I’m sorry, it’s just, she’s never even mentioned you before…” She shook her head. Kaisa sighed, realising there was no getting out of telling her the truth.

“Your daughter didn’t…” she trailed off, struggling to find the words. How could she tell this woman her own child didn’t trust her? “She couldn’t…” The other woman looked up again, and, meeting her gaze, Kaisa finally knew what to say; because she knew exactly why someone would hide something like that.

“She felt like if she told you, you’d be upset,” she explained. “Her nightmare was about a monster, one she never wanted to tell you about. She told me that if you found out, you would try and stop her adventures.”

The other woman breathed in sharply, then swallowed, Kaisa’s words seeming to set in slowly. She let out a shaky breath, her gaze drifting over to the door.

“She doesn’t tell me anything anymore,” she said quietly, pain creeping into her voice.

“Because she doesn’t feel like she can,” Kaisa replied, keeping her voice soft. “She feels like you’re trying to change her, like you don’t want her to go on adventures anymore. But that’s a part of who Hildi is.” For a moment, silence settled.

“I just want her to be safe,” Hilda’s mother finally said, “but no matter what I do, she always finds her way into more danger. The more I try and protect her the worse it gets; the more I try to do for her the more she pushes me away. What am I supposed to do?” She held her arms up helplessly.

Kaisa took a deep breath, knowing this was the moment. She could see plainly how much this woman cared about her child, she just needed to understand how Hilda felt.

“Your choice is not between keeping her safe and endangering her,” she said slowly, unable to stop her own feelings rising into her throat. “It’s between being the sort of mother who supports her for being who she is, or the sort who punishes her for it. Hildi isn’t like other children, and she isn’t going to change.”

For a moment, silence reigned. Kaisa couldn’t help a cold feeling rising in her stomach; had she gone too far? Had she let her own feelings out too much? But then Hilda’s mother let out a shaky sigh, head coming down to rest in her hands, and the librarian felt a stab of guilt as she saw tears glistening in the other woman’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

“No,” Hilda’s mother replied, still not looking up, “you’re right. I haven’t been fair to Hilda. But I just can’t help being worried about her, when I don’t even know where she is most days.”

“I know she wants to talk to you.” Kaisa couldn’t help reaching out, placing what she hoped was a comforting hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “Hildi desperately wants your support; if you let her know she can trust you, then I’m sure she’ll be more open with you.” Hilda’s mother finally looked up, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand.

“Do you really think so?” she asked cautiously. Kaisa nodded firmly.

“I’m sure of it,” she reassured, “she’s only hiding things because she thinks she has to.” Hilda’s mother nodded slowly in understanding, sniffing away the last of her tears.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, “Miss…”

“Kaisa,” the librarian filled in, breaking into a small smile as she added, “Keeper of the Books.”

“Johanna,” the other woman noted, the tiniest of smiles on her own face. A mix of emotions still swirled behind it, guilt and relief chief among them, and Kaisa couldn’t help feeling a strange warmth at the thought she wasn’t the only one who cared so deeply about Hilda. This was certainly not the strangest start to a friendship she had ever had, but it was close.

“I should probably be going,” she said quickly, feeling her face heat up a little. She pulled her hand away and glanced over at the clock on the front of the oven; it was getting towards the small hours. Johanna followed her gaze.

“Will you be alright getting home?” she asked. “It is awfully late.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kaisa assured her. She stood up, running through the necessary incantation in her head. “I can just translocate home.” Johanna just shook her head, a look of confused acceptance on her face.

“Take care, Kaisa,” she said with what Kaisa would swear was a hint of fondness. “And thank you, for helping me realise how Hilda was feeling.” The smile on her face faded for a moment, before she forced it back up. “Feel free to pop by if you ever want to say hello to her.”

“Or you?” Kaisa couldn’t help asking. Johanna looked away again, but she was still smiling, and Kaisa was sure she could see the other woman’s cheeks turn a little redder in the light.

“Or me,” she agreed.

With that Kaisa stepped back, pulling out her wand. She felt the magic surge through her again as she spoke the incantation aloud, purple light enveloping her. And with one last look at Johanna’s face she was gone, safe in the knowledge that Hilda and her mother would both be much closer in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't plan on this turning into a chapter fic, but here we are XD


	3. Opening Up

When Hilda awoke, light was streaming in around her blinds, filling her room with a faint but warm glow. She felt like she had been asleep for a week, her limbs heavy and her mind still foggy. But slowly she grew more awake, memories of the previous night flooding back to her, and she couldn’t help overturning them in her mind.

The thought of how much Kaisa had cared made her feel all warm inside. It was reassuring, knowing there was another adult she could talk to, another place she could go when the world became too much. But at the same time there was a twinge of guilt underneath it all; she had still had to sneak out, roping Tontu into taking her. Regardless of motive, she had still broken her mum’s rules yet again.

The sound of her door creaking open pulled Hilda out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Johanna standing in the doorway, propping the door open with one elbow, a tray balanced in her arms. There was a small smile on the woman’s face, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Hilda couldn’t help a strange feeling of unease creeping into her at the sight.

“Hi, mum,” she greeted, sitting up a little under her covers. At her side, Twig stirred, head rising for a moment to see what was going on before dropping it back down onto the bed.

“Good morning, Hilda,” Johanna replied. “I thought you might like breakfast in bed?” There was a slight strain in her voice, one that didn’t help Hilda’s sense of unease. Stiffly her mother set the tray down on the desk, a plate of toast and a glass of juice wobbling precariously on top of it for a moment before settling down.

“Uh, thanks?” Hilda wasn’t quite sure what to say; there was definitely something going on. For one thing, breakfast in bed normally meant a special occasion. “Is everything alright, mum?”

Johanna’s forced smile dropped, replaced by a worried expression. She let out a sigh, meeting Hilda’s gaze, and the girl felt her stomach drop; she was sure she knew what was coming. That was the look that meant Johanna had found out about something she had tried to keep secret.

“Hilda, I know about what happened last night,” her mother said gently, hands clasping together in front of her stomach. Hilda froze, feeling her blood run cold. In an instant all the comfort of last night was gone, replaced by crawling fear and disappointment at herself.

“How?” she asked gingerly, hands grasping the covers involuntarily.

“I caught your friend, Kaisa, tucking you in,” Johanna explained, sitting down on the end of the bed. “She told me everything.”

There was clear concern in her voice. Hilda felt something ice-cold settle in the pit of her stomach; so that was why Johanna was acting like this. She knew her daughter had snuck out twice more, and that one of those instances had scared her so badly she had woken up sobbing in the night. No doubt then, that the breakfast was a peace offering before she tried to ban Hilda from adventuring.

“I’m sorry,” Hilda said quietly. She rolled over, unable to bear her mum’s gaze any longer. She tried in vain to swallow the lump forming in her throat. Suddenly she felt Johanna’s arm come to rest on her side, a reassuring gesture that rang hollow against her doubts.

“No, Hilda,” her mother said softly, “You don’t need to be; I’m the one who needs to apologise.” Hilda tensed in surprise, not quite sure she believed what she was hearing. She looked up slowly, reluctantly meeting her mother’s gaze; the concern was still there, but above all else Johanna looked _guilty_.

“What?” The word escaped Hilda’s mouth before she even had time to think about it.

“Kaisa told me about why you’ve been hiding things,” Johanna explained gently, scooting closer on the bed. “Hilda, I…” she trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I never wanted you to feel like you couldn’t talk to me.”

Hilda sat up slowly, meeting her mother’s gaze. She wasn’t quite sure she believed what she was hearing. Johanna went on, voice soft but tinged with pain.

“You know I worry about you,” she continued sadly. “I just want you to be safe. But I shouldn’t have forced you to act out just to be who you are.” It took a moment for her words to really set in. Hilda felt a sting in the corners of her eyes, pent-up emotions welling. She shrunk back into the covers.

“You don’t think I’m a bad daughter?” she couldn’t help asking. “You don’t wish I was more like other kids?” Suddenly she felt Johanna’s arms around her, pulling her up into a tight hug.

“Is that how you feel?” Johanna’s voice was tinged with disbelief; Hilda could almost hear her mother’s heart breaking. She felt a creeping guilt that she’d ever had those thoughts, but she couldn’t deny them.

“Mhmm.” She felt the embrace around her tighten, one hand reaching up to gently run through her hair.

“Oh Hilda,” Johanna said, voice quavering, “I wouldn’t swap being your mum for anything.” There was only earnestness in her words. Hilda couldn’t help sniffling, returning the hug as hard as she could.

She didn’t realise she was crying until she felt her mother’s sweater grow damp against her face. But she couldn’t stop, relief and guilt and hurt all rising at once as the wall she had built inside gave way. Her mother just held her as she let it all out, her presence a comfort amid the sea of her emotions. Finally she sniffed loudly, blinking the last of her tears away, and felt Johanna’s arms loosen around her.

She shifted back, meeting her mother’s gaze again. Johanna had a small smile on her face, one Hilda couldn’t help matching.

“I’ll admit,” Johanna began softly, “being your mum does have its fair share of ups and downs. I know I haven’t always dealt with those as well as I could have; I’ve been letting my worries get the better of me.”

“It’s okay, mum,” Hilda reassured. “You’re a mum; it’s your job to worry about me.” Johanna let out a snort of breath at that, not quite a laugh but close enough. “I do appreciate it,” the girl continued. “It’s nice, knowing there’s a warm bed and a loving mum waiting for me after every adventure.”

She could see the warmth rising in her mother’s eyes, her smile growing and the guilt beginning to fade from her expression. She leaned in closer, fondness shining in her eyes.

“Tell you what,” she began, “why don’t we make a deal?”

“What sort of deal?” Hilda asked, tilting her head to one side.

“From now on, you won’t have to hide things,” Johanna offered. “I promise I won’t try and stop your adventures. But you have to promise to let me know about what you’re up to when you go out, okay? I just want to support you, Hilda, but I can’t if I don’t know what you’re going through.”

She paused; Hilda got the distinct sense there was more she wanted to say, so she waited. After a moment, Johanna sighed. “And, if there’s ever anything you really don’t want to tell me about, for any reason, can you promise me that you’ll at least tell Kaisa?”

Hilda’s eyes went wide. Out of everything, she hadn’t been expecting that. She hadn’t expected her mother to understand at all, let alone trust Kaisa enough to help in looking out for her. But in an instant she knew what her answer was.

“Okay, mum,” she answered, reaching out to pull Johanna into another hug. “I promise.” It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like everything was right for the first time in a long while. She felt her mother’s arms close around her again, holding her close for a moment before they both separated.

“So,” Johanna asked with a smile, “what are you going to do today?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Hilda shrugged. But as she did, she felt an idea rise up in her mind. “Wait, are you free today?”

“All day.” Her mother nodded.

“Then,” Hilda couldn’t help smiling, “after breakfast, why don’t I show you the library? It’s a really cool place, and I think there’s someone there we both need to thank.” She saw her mother blush a little as she realised who Hilda was talking about, her smile widening.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Hilda.”


End file.
